


And when I touch you I feel happy inside

by nanasteiger



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Kinda, M/M, like a lot, they hold hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4857194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasteiger/pseuds/nanasteiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Enjolras grabbed his hand for the first time it was just a spontaneous reaction to literally save his life but when he finally stepped back and he left Grantaire’s hand there was a moment when he could swear he heard Enjolras made a strange, pained sound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And when I touch you I feel happy inside

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time trying to write a enjoltaire, it could be seen as a reincarnation!AU even if it's not clearly stated and they aren't aware of it.  
> The idea came from a [post from tumblr]() that said: "enjolras making a distressed noise every time grantaire lets go of his hand" but especially the tags that came after that: #enjolras and grantaire sleeping together #they start off just holding hands but when they wake up they’re like a giant pretzel #and still holding hands #and grantaire makes a joke about carpel tunnel syndrome and arthritis #and enjolras just laughs but keeps holding on #because there’s something in the back of his mind #an old memory of fingers falling from his
> 
> The title is clearly from "I want to hold your hand" by the Beatles.

When Enjolras grabbed his hand for the first time it was just a spontaneous reaction to literally save his life. He hadn’t see the car arriving and yes, his mum always said to watch left and right before crossing the street but he was too busy talking -well, arguing- with Enjolras to do it properly so he had just stepped down the pavement when his cold hand grabbed Grantaire’s and pulled him backwards. “Are you batshit crazy?” He almost shouted as the car passed them faster then it should. “You could have get yourself killed” and his voice was shaking a little and even if Grantaire heart was beating too loud in his ears -because of his near death experience, mind you- he could see in his eyes how scared Enjolras really was. It took them a couple of seconds more to notice that they were still holding hands but instead of just letting go Enjolras just watched their fingers intertwined a little longer, as if he wanted to understand why he was so reluctant to let go. When he finally stepped back and he left Grantaire’s hand there was a moment when he could swear he heard Enjolras made a strange, pained sound.

 

The second time they held hands was more a willing action, even if it was almost imposed by their position at the front row of the rally. Actually all of them were just holding hands in silence (it was a new form of protest that they wanted to try. “They never listen to us, they think we are just kids who shout and that they can just shout louder than us to hush us. We will march and our silence will be the loudest scream they’ll ever hear”). They were crossing the main street of the campus all together, to a point where from the usual cold their hand started to warm and sweat that much that more than often some of them would break the chain to swept their palms on their jeans trying to dry them.  
Enjolras never left his until he was his moment to step up and start his speech. Grantaire listened as always but when it was over he couldn’t remember a word. He was too focused of how numb his hand was without Enjolras holding it, as if something bad could happen if they weren’t together.

 

The third time was a deliberate step, a crazy deliberate and nonsense step. Grantaire just wanted to hold his hand, he told Enjolras and Enjolras had let him hold it.  
They had stayed behind after their weekly meeting and neither of them wanted to go home. Outside was just too cold and and wet because it had just stopped raining. They were just sitting on one of the Musain’s little couch near the window. Grantaire was way too late to even try for his dance lesson and for once they were just talking about school and projects and impending exams and Enjolras was trying so hard to not start an other argument, leaving behind the topic they just finished discussing with the others.  
“I want to hold your hand” Grantaire just said, out of the blue. He had the words stuck in his throat for weeks but he had never found the courage or the time to embarrass himself before, saying them out loud.  
“Just like the Beatles’ song?” the smile of Enjolras face was little but sure. The hand that was holding the mug of coffee was now open on the table that was between them, tempting.  
“Can I?”  
Enjolras nodded and his hand was oddly warm but his smile was gone, a frown was now on his face as if his question had somehow upset him.

 

When they finally decided to be together they started to hold hands all the time. From his usual spot at the back of the café Grantaire started to sit next to his boyfriend so at any pause -or even when he was speaking, especially when they were arguing- he could just grab his hand and stroke his pulse point with his thumb to calm himself. They started to walk holding hands, to sleep, to study, to even eat or take a shower holding hands. When someone questioned them they just couldn’t give a straight answer because it was just happening. They liked to hold hands, _what was wrong with that?_ Enjolras used to say.  
But Grantaire knew that something _was_ wrong. Because it couldn’t be normal that, like the first time, every time Enjolras had to let him go he made this little, suffering sound. That when their fingers weren’t intertwined he had in his gut this bad feeling that something bad, something terrible was going to happen.  
“I just don’t understand” Enjolras had said one night. He was lying upside down on Grantaire’s bed. His feet on the wall and his head and long golden hair hanging from the mattress as he was watching him stretching on an old notebook.  
“When I hold your hand…” His voice was soft and Grantaire stopped his pencil and looked at him. It was the first time he voluntarily started that discussion. He had doubt written all over his face, as if he didn’t know if he should keep talking, as if he was afraid of Grantaire’s reaction. “When I hold your hand it just grounds me and letting it go… It’s strange, I know, but it’s like reviving a too vivid dream but I’m awake or a memory but it’s not mine or… I just…”  
“Like from another life.”  
Enjolras sat slowly, serious eyes never leaving his stare, just nodding when he understood that for once words were failing him.  
“It’s like having this feeling that if I hold your hand I’m safe and I can keep you safe and if I let you go you’ll go away, you’ll never come back…”

Grantaire knew that he wasn’t making much sense. His eyes were watering without a reason and for anybody else he’d sound like a crazy person, but Enjolras was looking at him like he was holding his whole world and tried to reach him stretching him arm until he could grab his hand. “It’s like… If I let you go you’ll fall.”  
When Enjolras pulled they fell on the bed together, kissing, holding each other. “I’ll never let you go” Grantaire would say against his skin “not again” even if he didn’t know what that meant, “never again.”

 

When Enjolras and Grantaire held hands for the first time there was a painful silence that pierced their ears like a gunshot. There was no hope, there was no future, there was no love. When Enjolras and Grantaire held hands for the first time Enjolras was smiling and their friends were watching them with glassy eyes from the floor. The same floor that watched them sing and dance and drink and plot to change the world. When Enjolras left Grantaire hand, just before falling from the window and leaving him alone to die, Grantaire could swear he heard Enjolras made a strange, pained sound.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If you want come and say hi [here](galaahaad.tumblr.com)


End file.
